Cloning Around
by Igorina
Summary: Cad Bane and Aurra Sing have never had the slightest desire to 'pull a Jango'. Unfortunately for them, a rogue Kaminoan has been 'experimenting' with the DNA of the galaxy's scum and villainy.
1. Cloning Around

**Disclaimer:** The Star Wars universe belongs to George Lucas, I own none of the characters or settings to be found herein. No profit is being made from this work of fanfiction.

**A/N:** I make no apologies for this excessively silly work of absurdity.

**-o0O0o-**

As the cloner shuffled cheerfully through his datapads, Cad Bane and Aurra Sing stared in shock and alarm at what was going on behind the one way mirror.

The little Duros boy and tiny near-human girl on the other side appeared to be industriously engaged in the task of colouring in paper drawings with brightly hued crayons.

Eventually it was Bane who broke the horrified silence.

"So let me get this straight, son. You cloned us. And, in the words of your own holonet post, you did it 'for the lulz'."

The Kaminoan, seemingly oblivious to the fact that he'd succeeded in enraging two of the galaxy's most dangerous individuals, merely shrugged, a movement that looked distinctly silly on a being of his build. "I also wanted to win the bet."

"Bet?"

"Nohb Raen wagered eight-hundred thousand credits that I wouldn't be able to produce both of them. But he was wrong. A Duros is more difficult than a human, of course, and a hybrid does require some unique adjustments, but the underlying principles are the same for all humanoids."

Bane, fury at once soothed by the mention of large sums of cash, was about demand that all credits be handed over with immediate effect, when there was a disturbance on the other side of the reinforced glass.

The girl was kicking the boy hard in the shin and trying to wrest an orange crayon from his hand.

"Give back," she screamed. "Minni's crayon. Give back."

"Meanie poodoo head," the boy retaliated, before yanking the girl's stubby auburn ponytail.

The girl responded by bursting into tears and repeatedly kneeing him in the stomach.

"Hey, what's that little chit doing?" Bane demanded, affronted by the Aurra-clone's vicious assault on his own unnatural abomination.

"He asked for it," Aurra shot back, obviously rooting for the miniature version of herself. "He took her crayon."

"If she wanted it so badly she should have kept a better watch on it."

"What do you think she's doing now?"

"Too little, too late. She's lost her chance. She just doesn't realise it yet."

This as it transpired, was true. When she let go of the crayon in order to use both her hands to hit him, the little Duros boy took the opportunity to put the crayon his mouth. When he pulled it out a few seconds later, wet and partially chewed he grinned and offered it to the girl, who stared at it with deep disgust, before running off to the beanbag in the corner of the nursery for a good hearty cry.

Bane smiled, a strange sort of pride flooding through him.

"Filthy little sleemo." Aurra scowled.

Bane chuckled. "It's not his fault the competition ain't up to scratch."

"She'll retaliate."

"She'll scream and kick and make a lot of noise, but that won't change anything. He's at the top of his game."

"For now. One day she'll get her fingers around his neck and squeeze."

"Sure, sure." He made a dismissive gesture.

"I mean it."

"Ain't happened yet, Sing." He gave her a nasty smile. "Ain't going to happen either"

The Kaminoan cleared his throat.

Suddenly aware of the scene they were making, both bounty hunters lapsed into a brief yet intensely awkward silence.

On the other side of the glass another child, a robust little Weequay boy, was attempting to comfort the sobbing girl by giving her a toy blaster to play with.

"This is ridiculous," said Aurra. "We didn't come here for this."

"Right," Bane agreed. This ridiculous argument was getting them nowhere... What those kids needed to do was pool their resources, recruit the Clawdite toddler who was currently cuddling a plush tauntaun and formulate a plan for getting their hands on that Huttlet's stash of hologames. His little doppelganger might just be able to stiff his colleagues afterwards (if he could spit on the things without breaking them) but he'd need them to get past the Huttlet's Trandoshan buddy.


	2. Take Your Clone to Work Day

**A/N:** Sequel to Cloning Around (see previous chapter). In desperation, the rogue Kaminoans have bribed Hondo, Aurra, Bane and Bossk to take their four most unruly charges off their hands for a day.

**-o0O0o-**

**Hondo**

"You're a pirate. A real pirate?" The little Weequay's face was a picture of unmitigated delight.

"Yes, yes. A real pirate." Hondo chuckled and patted his clone on the head. "And it's not all fun and games, I can tell you. Just yesterday a group of Nautolans tried to make off with one of my ships. Very messy business."

The boy's beam intensified. "When I'm bigger I'm going to be pirate too... But don't tell Minni, she say's we're going to get married and be assassins and live in a sweetshop."

"And who's Minni?"

The little boy removed a bashed about looking datapad from his coat pocket and brought up a picture of very pale little girl with a stubby auburn ponytail.

"She wants to marry you?"

The boy nodded. "And she says we're going to have four children and a pet Rancor called Snuggles."

Eyes widening Hondo took a moment to thank Quay that Aurra had – for all her other numerous failings – never shown any interest in domesticity. Then, shaking his head, he picked his clone up and sat him on the bar counter.

"Junior, my friend, I can see that we're going to have to have a long talk about the perils of dangerous little girls."

**-o0O0o-**

**Aurra**

They'd told her that the little girl was 'difficult', 'aggressive', liable to demonstrate 'challenging behaviour'. In short, that her clone was a general all round pain in the ass.

After a couple of hours with the child Aurra had concluded that her Kaminoan minders were a bunch of lily-livered twits who deserved to be eviscerated at the earliest opportunity. A more friendly, affectionate and well behaved toddler couldn't possibly exist.

"Minni, stop playing with the knife and come and have your snack."

The tiny near-human dutifully returned the cutlery to the table, clambered back up onto her chair and started to tuck into the chunks of meat in Nerf blood the jumpy Rodian waiter had just brought over.

"Good girl." Aurra smiled her least threatening smile. "When you've finished that we can go to the arms fair and find you some big girl blasters to play with."

Clearly enthused by the prospect of temporarily replacing her toy guns with the real thing, Minni gave a happy squeal and began to eat as fast as she could.

Then, spying the Rodian (who seemed to be trying to disappear behind one of the establishment's supporting pillars), Aurra snapped her fingers and beckoned him over.

"Please," he said, an expression of all consuming anxiety on his face. "I beg of you. Take it away... far away." He pointed shakily at Minni, whose eyes began to wander back towards the cutlery.

Indignant, Aurra's hands went straight to her holsters. "She's not an _It_. She's an adorable child."

"She's a demon. Look at what's she's done. Just look." Voice growing more tremulous with each word, the Rodian gestured to the dozen or so groaning bodies that currently littered the tavern floor.

"She was only trying to show them her knife throwing skills."

Aurra's lip curled as she surveyed the scene. None of the injured had anything worse than a few minor lacerations and contusions. _Wimps, the lot of them_. She'd performed gruelling five day missions requiring hand-to-hand combat with far worse.

Honestly, some people were so oversensitive.

**-o0O0o-**

**Bane**

_"I don't have time for dis,"_ Bane muttered, as the small Duros charged about the living area.

It had seemed like a good deal at first: ten thousand credits to watch his clone while the Kaminoans took a 'recuperative break'. After all, how hard could it be? The answer, of course, had been 'rather more difficult than expected'. The boy was energetic, inquisitive and seemingly unable to comprehend the words 'get de hell off dat thing, right now'.

_Think,_ Bane ordered himself. _What do parents do when dey want to get der kids off their hands?_

The answer came to him in a flash.

_Dey let de holotube take care of dem._

Pleased with this timely insight, Bane hastily removed his bootleg copy of _Togrutas Gone Wild_ from the rented apartment's big screen holoprojector and set it to the play the first kid friendly programme he could find: an insipid looking animation entitled _The Happy Bantha Family_. He then left the room in search of a stiff drink.

When he returned he saw the little boy sitting quietly on the floor, eyes glue to the holoprojection as Mummy Bantha delivered the moral of the episode.

_ "... And so you see, as long as you have friends, credits don't matter. Goodnight children"_

Bane gaped at this blasphemy, innards turning to ice.

"Goodnight Mummy Bantha," the boy parroted, smiling cheerfully as the theme tune began to play.

Horrified beyond reason, the bounty hunter lunged for the off switch, managing to end the broadcast before the _Caring, Sharing Padawan Pals_ had chance to play.

The little boy looked at him quizzically.

His own clone.

What had he done?

_What had he done?_

**-o0O0o-**

**Bossk**

Bossk looked down at the tiny snarling form standing beside him and found himself... _not unsatisfied_.

He had initially been disappointed to hear that little Bleurgh had not yet slaughtered and devoured his nursery mates, as Bossk himself had once done. But over the last few hours the tiny Trandoshan had proved himself: revelling in the hunt and delivering several nasty nips to their Mon Calamari prey.

No, Bossk was not unsatisfied with his clone. There was however one issue that needed to be dealt with.

"Bleurgh, there's something we need to discuss."

"Rhaw?" The little one paused in his chomping of the Calamari leftovers and looked at him enquiringly.

"You..." he flushed dark green with embarrassment, not quite sure of the right way to phrase it. He was certain that _he'd_ never had this problem as a child. "Bleurgh, you need to stop doing pee pee and poodoo on the cockpit floor."

**-o0O0o-**

**Bane redux**

"So let me get this straight. You kidnapped me because you need a _babysitter_?" Ahsoka Tano seemed torn between disbelief, indignant rage and amusement.

"Dat's right," Bane said, snarling to cover his embarrassment. "Something came up and I need someone to watch the ankle biter. I saw you in de area and figured a Jedi wouldn't take de opportunity to put a blaster to his head."

The Padawan opened her mouth to speak and then seemed to think better of it. Opting instead to eye the bracelet he'd affixed to her wrist.

"Look, you can go when dis is finished. But leave de building or tamper with dat and dis whole place will blow sky high."

She frowned. "But if that happened..." she looked pointedly at the little Duros, who was presently trying to see how far he could jump if he launched himself from the room's rickety looking table.

Bane smirked. "Dat's why I'm sure you'll play nice."

"Sleemo."

"_Language_," he mockingly chastised, with a nod towards the child. "He's already picked enough up from dat bar on Florrum."

"Is he yours?" She seemed genuinely curious.

"Ye— NO... Damned cloners."

"Daddy," the little boy chirped as he ambled over to take a look at the new arrival.

Bane glowered. "Son, I told you a thousand times, I ain't your goddamned... never mind."

He turned his gaze back to the Padawan. "I'll be back in a couple of hours. Der's drinks in the cabinet and food in the cold store. Show him a _Pirates of the Endless Seas_ holo if he asks for it." He gritted his teeth. "But, no _Happy Bantha Family_."


End file.
